by Lucia Jordan
“Hey, Max,” I said as the thought occurred to me. “How long has it been since you’ve had a girlfriend?”
“A long time,” he chuckled. “But that’s just fine with me. I see how much you and Brooke struggle to have a relationship, and I see how much other people do, too. I don’t want to struggle with things like that. I’d rather just be alone.”
“Well, I’m hoping that once the struggle part has passed, that the rest of is easy and nice.”
“I hope that for you, too,” he said.
19
*** (Tim Continued)
I was so preoccupied with finishing the container home that I didn’t even realize that she had gone back to work at the coffee shop. I hadn’t texted or called because I knew that none of it would matter until I finished the surprise for her. I had worried a little about seeming as though I was distant or didn’t care, especially since that had been a part of the problem before my Spokane trip. But I was just so anxious to finish the house and move on with everything that I hadn’t given that concern too much weight. I figured that Brooke was probably just focusing on her job at the café and on hanging out with Nick and Kate. I hoped that she wasn’t going on any more blind dates, but even if she were, I was sure that this surprise would win her back. I just needed to hurry up and get it finished.
I took one afternoon off because I needed to go downtown to get something. If it hadn’t been of utmost importance, I wouldn’t have done it, but this was too important to wait on. I left Max in charge at the house and told him I would be back in time for our fireside evening chats that I had come to really enjoy as we were working on this job together.
When I got downtown, I had almost forgotten what the frustration of the traffic and the rush of the people felt like. It had been nice to spend so much time in the mountains. I pulled into a tight parking spot and walked into the jewelry store. I knew exactly what I wanted and scanned the glass cases for it to catch my eye. Nothing was jumping out at me, though. Everything kind of looked like a different version of the same thing.
“Can I help you?” a saleslady with way too much makeup on asked me.
“I’m looking for one of these,” I said as I pointed to the proper case. “But I want one that looks like the stars.”
“The stars?”
“Yeah, you know the things in the sky at night?” I wasn’t sure why that was difficult to understand.
The woman stared at me like I was crazy and then looked over at a different, younger sales associate who came to help. I was glad to have someone else to talk to because that other lady and I were not going to end up getting anything accomplished expediently.
“Hi,” the younger girl said. “I heard you say you want one that looks like the stars, right?”
“Yes,” I said as I waited for her to tell me to elaborate more on that concept.
“Okay, perfect. So you want one that is sparkling, and delicate, and bright enough that it could rival the moon.”
“Yes, yes, exactly!” This girl knew exactly what I meant.
“I don’t think we have anything like that here,” she said as I felt my heart sink. “But I do think we have something like that in the back.”
“The back?”
“Yes,” she said as she lifted the little faux countertop to let me behind the cases and into where they housed the private jewelry fitting rooms.
I had no idea private rooms at the jewelers were an actual thing, but apparently, they were.
“Wait right here,” she said as she pointed to a chair inside a small room. “I’ll be right back.”
I sat down like I was told to, and in a few minutes, she returned. She had a small tray, and inside the tray were four rings. She set them down in front of me, and they were perfect. All four of them looked like stars.
“Wow,” I said in a whisper.
“Yeah,” she echoed. “They’re stunning, aren’t they? I have to warn you, though; they are also really expensive.”
“Oh, I don’t care about that,” I said as I saw the look of shock on her face.
She picked up each one in turn and let me hold it. I held them up to my face to look at closely, and then she put each one on one of her fingers to show me what they looked like when they were on a hand.
“What size do you need it to be?” she asked.
I think she could tell be my face and the long pause of silence that I didn’t have a clue what size it needed to be.
She giggled and said it was fine. That any of these would be a close fit and that they could always be resized if necessary. It was a tough decision, but there was one of the four rings in particular that reminded me of one of the brightest stars in the Cassiopeia constellation—the star that rested on the hip of the mythological Greek queen for which the constellation was named after. That was the one that I needed to get. It was stunning, and I was excited.
The saleswoman put the ring in a beautiful little velvet box and tied it with a thick ribbon for me. Then she ran up the amount on the register and looked at me as if she were waiting for me to hand the ring back over to her and leave. I smiled and handed her my bank card. She was even more surprised when I left a gratuity for her because she had been so helpful. I hoped she rubbed that generous tip right in the face of the snotty old woman who snubbed her nose at me when I said I wanted it to look like the stars. I thanked her and hurried back to my car. I needed to get back to the mountain house and get some more work put in on Brooke’s little dream home before the sun went down.
When I got there, Max was still hard at work. This time he was working on installing a little hobbit stove into the living area of the home. The small woodburning stove not only looked like something out of a fairy tale, but it was also super-efficient and cozy. Everything about the build was incredible and would be perfect. I pulled him away from his work for just a second so that I could show him what I had gone into the city to buy. When I pulled it out and opened the box, his mouth dropped open.
“Wow,” he said as he stared at the sparkling diamond. “Is that for—”
“Yes,” I interrupted. “What do you think?”
“I think it looks like a star fell out of the sky and into that tiny box.”
I laughed. “Perfect! That’s exactly what I was going for.”
“But are you sure, man? I mean, this is a huge deal. This isn’t the kind of thing that a nice dinner or hell, even a house can fix. You can’t screw this one up if you decide to do it.”
“Geez, Max,” I chuckled. “Have a little bit of faith in me.”
“I do,” he said as he patted his hand on my shoulder. “I actually have a lot of faith in you. I just want you to know that you’re absolutely certain before you do something like that.”
“I am,” I said confidently.
“All right then,” he said. “Congratulations.”
“I don’t think you congratulate me until after,” I said jokingly.
“Oh yeah, true. When are you going to do it?”
“As soon as this house is ready,” I said.
I went to put the piece of unbelievably expensive jewelry inside before something happened to it. Then I texted Brooke. I hadn’t known what else to text her since the last time, and I was trying not to push her. But I really felt like I wanted to hear from her, anything just to let me know that she was still hanging in there. I figured that being honest was the best thing to be, even if it was just over a message.
Hey. I miss you. How are you?
I stood there for a while and stared at my phone as I waited for her to answer. I thought that maybe she was at work, but then I saw the three little bouncing dots that indicated she was typing. I waited for what seemed like forever; she must have been typing an entire novel. But then the three bouncing dots stopped, and I still didn’t get a text. Maybe there was a glitch, and the message didn’t send. Or maybe she got called back to her shift and couldn’t be on her phone again. Or maybe she just didn’t actually want me to see what she had
wanted to say. I wanted to go to her right now to make sure that she was okay and to get the feeling back that everything was going to be great in just a few more days.
But instead, I went back outside with Max to keep finishing her house.
20
Chapter Fourteen (Brooke)
I hadn’t heard from Tim in days. From the rumors going around, he hadn’t been to his office in days either. I had texted Max to make sure that Tim was okay and that he wasn’t sick of anything, and Max let me know that he was fine, just preoccupied with another project. That definitely sounded like Tim, and it reminded me of how tunnel-visioned he had been just before the Spokane project. Speaking of which, I wondered how that project was going.
If Tim hadn’t been to the office all week, then that project was surely taking a hit. It surprised me to think that Tim would put the priority of anything else above the Spokane job. Whatever it was, it must have been a big deal or a very lucrative contract in order for him to be taking so much time away from everything else to focus on this.
Kate and Nick seemed more preoccupied than usual lately, too. They were both so caught up with each other that some nights it felt like they didn’t even know I was there in the room with them. The other night I had actually gotten up to leave right before they ended up having sex on the couch. I was guessing that Nick would be popping the question soon, and I could already see myself sitting in tears at Kate’s wedding for a multitude of reasons.
I found myself slipping more and more into melancholy and daydreaming about Tim as I went through the motions of my day. It was kind of amazing actually that I was still able to function so well with paying attention to so little. I would find that I had already made it home from work without even remembering the commute back to the apartment. Or that I would look down and see a half-done latte in my hands that I didn’t even remember starting. I guess it was my lack of paying any real attention to anything that is what kept me from noticing when Chelsea walked into the coffee shop.
I was standing behind the espresso bar, making drinks when I heard Kate take her order. She looked over in my direction for a minute, but she either didn’t recognize me or didn’t care who I was. She ordered a vanilla latte, and when the drink ticket came through, I pulled it off and looked at it as Chelsea went to go take a seat at one of the high-top tables until her drink was called.
“You want me to make this one?” Kate asked. She knew who it was, and she knew that I hated the woman.
“Nope,” I said. “I’ve got it.”
“You sure?”
I nodded and got started on Chelsea’s drink. I set the steam temperature to a scalding hot level. I watched over the espresso bar at her as she kept herself busy on her phone while she waited. When the drink was done, I started to walk out from behind the counter to hand it to her.
“What are you doing?” Kate asked since we usually don’t hand-deliver drinks.
I ignored her and kept walking.
When I got close enough to Chelsea to hand her the drink, she didn’t even look up from her phone. She waved an arrogant hand at the table and said to set the cup down. I stared at her for a few minutes, in her tight white skinny jeans with her faux fur and bright-red lipstick. She looked a little like one of those cheap knockoff dolls that they sold at the second- hand stores.
“Ugh,” she said as she peeled her eyes up from her phone and looked at me. “Don’t you know what this means?” she asked as she waved her hand toward the table again. “It means, set it there.”
I wasn’t sure what came over me, but I absolutely and completely lost it. I took the top off of her latte and threw the whole scalding drink at her. I watched as the chocolate brown stain sprayed onto her fur and the entire outfit. She screamed and held her face and neck as it burned from the scalding coffee.
“What are you doing?” she yelled at me.
I hadn’t moved at all. I just stood there squarely in my spot in front of her. Kate came running out from behind the counter with a roll of paper towels and started mopping up the mocha spill around Chelsea’s feet.
“You bitch!” Chelsea screamed at me. “Why in the world would you—” She stopped and looked at me once she had wiped most of the mocha out of her eyes. “Wait a minute,” she said with a sneer. “I know you.”
“You were that girl with Tim,” she said before bursting out into laughter. “You threw a drink on me because you’re mad that I turned your boyfriend on, although I heard he isn’t your boyfriend anymore.”
“Brooke,” I heard Kate say in a calm and low voice. “Calm down, don’t do whatever it is you’re about to do.”
“Well, we know what she’s not going to do,” Chelsea taunted. “She’s not going to be manhandling Tim’s junk anymore. Guess Tim will need someone to stroke him at night now, and I guess that someone will be me.”
Kate looked up at me as if she knew what was coming. I pulled my arm back and then swung it around to clock Chelsea in the center of the face. My fist made contact with the bridge of her nose. I heard a sickening cracking sound, which made me think that I might have just broken the bone. That ought to put a damper on her modeling career for a while.
“Oh shit,” Kate murmured as the store manager came walking quickly toward us.
Kate tried to pull me back from the woman a bit, but I was kind of too shocked about everything that I had just done to move gracefully without tripping over my feet a bit. As soon as Chelsea spotted the manager, she began wailing as if she was in excruciating pain and demanded an ambulance.
“I need medical attention!” she screamed. “And burn gel thanks to this stupid twat who threw a hot drink in my face. I demand that she be immediately fired.”
Chelsea dialed 9-1-1 on her cell phone and began to launch into a story about how she was attacked by a crazy woman who beat her within an inch of her life. I couldn’t help but giggle when I listened to her because it was so unbelievably melodramatic.
The manager apologized profusely and offered her free drinks for a month if she didn’t leave a bad review. When the medics got there, they looked her over and said she was fine and then left. She was quite a sight to see, though, sitting on top of the coffee shop table, covered in dark mocha stains on her white jeans, with blood dripping from her nose all over the white fur that draped from her shoulders.
When the cops got there, though, it became less of a laughing matter. Before I knew what was even happening, they were putting zip ties on my wrists and arresting me for assault. It was pretty humiliating to be dragged out of the cafe, still in my apron, as the customers all watched. Kate grabbed for her keys to follow the cop car, but one of the cops told her not to bother because unless someone could post bail for me that I would be spending the night in jail. She stood there helplessly as they shoved me into the back of a cop car and drove off. I hoped that I still had my phone in my pocket and hadn’t dropped it.
“Am I allowed to make a call?” I asked the police officer who was driving.
“Yeah, once we get to the station.”
I sat back in the seat and waited until we got to the police station. The zip ties were too tight and extremely uncomfortable. I’d never been in the back of a cop car before. It wasn’t nearly as exciting as they show in the movies. When we got there, they took my picture and thumbprints and released my zip ties so that I could rub my wrists. The police told me that I was here on a two thousand dollar bail and that if it weren’t paid that I would be spending the night behind bars and awaiting further instruction. I had to hand over my cell phone, but I was allowed to use their payphone, so I called Kate.
“It’s a two thousand dollar bail, Kate,” I said solemnly. “None of us have that kind of money.”
“What about Tim?” she said. “Two thousand dollars is nothing to a billionaire. He definitely has the money and can get you out of there.”
“No, don’t call Tim!” I yelled into the phone. “The last thing I want is for him to know that I’m spending a night in
jail for jealously beating-up the woman who put her hands on his cock. Promise me that you won’t call him!”
“But—
“Promise me, Kate.”
“All right, fine. Then I guess we won’t see you until tomorrow. What time can you leave there tomorrow?”
“I’m really not sure, but I get the feeling that it won’t be for a while since the whole experience feels a lot like processing me like a package of meat.”
A guard tapped me on the shoulder.
“I have to go now, Kate. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be there,” she said. “Stay safe in there.”
I hung up the phone and started to cry,
I sat on the metal cot and was too exhausted to even cry anymore. I was disgusted with myself for having done something so stupid that it landed me in this cell. Why did it seem like everything was one string of bad decisions after another lately? I knew why; it was because I couldn’t think straight.
All I could see in my head when Chelsea had come into the café was her hand on Tim; her hand gripped around the sacred piece of his body that had been inside of me on the most wonderful night of my entire life. She was honestly lucky that all I did was throw a latte at her and punch her in the face. I wanted to break her whole hand off. Maybe next time she’d think twice about touching someone else’s boyfriend. That woman had been the catalyst for so many problems between Tim and me. Granted, the biggest part of the issue was Tim’s consistent lack of being open and communicative. But still, if it hadn’t been for Chelsea, none of that would have even happened to begin with. I swear that the universe puts people like her on the earth just to torment us and laugh at how much chaos gets created.
So now I would have no job—again—and if Chelsea pressed formal charges, then I would have something on my criminal record, not to mention I had to spend the night here on a metal cot with a toilet in the corner to pee in. My life was seriously at an all-time low. Never did I think I’d be going from my awesome job at Cubed with my amazingly hot boyfriend to a jail cell with a pee pot.